


Smut and tears

by RipperBlackstaff



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Stargate Universe
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, F/M, Porn With Plot, Rush has had better days, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RipperBlackstaff/pseuds/RipperBlackstaff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP</p><p>Lacey French thinks Professor Rush marks her work too harshly and goes to confront him in his office.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smut and tears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Professor Nicholas Rush pinched the bridge of his nose. A migraine was budding at the back of his head. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced at the time on the computer screen. It was 2:23pm and he had a lecture to give at 3. That thought made him sigh deeply, he just wasn't in shape for this. On the other side of the desk, Gloria was smiling at him gently. He reached out and touched his fingertip to the framed photography. His mouth contorded in a grimace of pain, and his eyes watered. He missed her so much. Everyday without her was an ordeal. He had lost the part of himself that made him a decent man when she passed away.  
  
The hand holding his pencil was trembling violently. He hadn't slept for the last three days and his eyesight was blurry. He rubbed his eyes again, his fingertips digging into them, making him see stars beneath his eyelids.  
  
He grabbed the papers on his desk. He put on his glasses and read once again the Ancient calculations. He didn't need to read them, he could write them in his sleep. Rush sighed deeply. They led nowhere. He had tried and turned them in his head for months and he had failed. He couldn't see the entry point of this enigma and he grunted in frustration.  
  
A knock on the door resounded in the room. He glanced up in surprise and sighed. What now ? A student entered with a determined step. A lovely student, actually. Rush had never seen such a beautiful woman. She had piercing blue eyes, darker than Gloria's but just as intense.  
"Sorry I'm late, Professor Rush."

  
Late ? Did he have an appointement ? He wasn't sure. He searched the paper chaos on his desk for his agenda. He shook his head at her, being totally clueless.  
"We had an appointement at 2pm, Sir," she informed.

  
He stared at her, he knew her from somewhere. Lacey French, his mind supplied. Bright, very intelligent mind, able to do so much more than she actually was if she focused on her studies.  
"Did we ?" He asked.  
"Yes..." She sounded puzzled.  
"I lost my agenda."

Why was he even trying to justify himself to her ? Her eyes... So much like Gloria's, probably. She pinned him to his armchair, rendering him uncomfortable. His feet crossed under the desk and he laid his hands on the arms of the armchair to hide their trembling.  
"What do you want ?" He asked.  
  
Lacey French smiled softly at him, but the smirk of a predator was lurking behind her gentle façade. "I wanted to talk about my grades, Professor."  
  
Oh god, it was annoying. She couldn't even come for something interesting. She came to complain. He shared an exasperated glance with Gloria in her picture.  
  
Miss French sat in the chair facing his desk without waiting for an answer.  
"What about your grades ?" He asked.  
"I'm failing your class, Professor, It's not tolerable," she answered.  
"Work harder."  
"I don't intend on working more. I'm working properly. Your way of grading is too brutal."  
"I beg your pardon ?" His eyebrows flew to his hairline, crinkling his brow.  
"Beg all you like, Sir, but you have understood. You need to be fairer."  
  
Rush was dumbstruck. He was a tough teacher and a tough marker, everyone knew it and he was even proud of that fact. His insides twisted. He couldn't believe a student dared confront him.  
"Miss French, stop making me lose my time. Go away and study."  
  
Miss French frowned, got up and sat on his knees, and Rush straightened, looking away.  
"What are you doing ?"  
"Sitting on your knees, Professor..." She trailed her fingernails down the side of his face.  
Rush looked at her. "Get up." He had gone so long without a contact, 18 long months, since his wife's death. This slight little touch felt too good, almost a torture in its own kind.  
"No."  
"I said, get up."  
"No, Professor," Lacey replied, smirking. "You know you want to give in..." She bent and whispered in his ear. "You want to know what it feels like to relax... Have you been relaxed since your wife's death ? Have you felt the knot between your shoulderblades disappear since then ?"

  
He tensed under her.

"Let me take care of you, Professor Rush..." She whispered in his ear, scratching the nape of his neck. "I can make your mind go blank for a moment... Would you like that ? All I want is not to fail your class... Imagine, the longer I stay in your class, the longer I could relax you..." She parted her red lips and closed them around his earlobe. She sucked on it a few seconds before talking again. "What do you think, professor ?"  
  
He tensed even more under her and his grip tightened around the arms of his chair. He couldn't find the strength in himself to get up and throw her out. Her gentle touch was too good. Lacey ground her hips down and felt him hard.  
"Yes..." she whispered happily. "Perfect..."

  
She nibbled the flesh of his ear and pushed on his chest to make him lean backward into the armchair. Rush stayed unresponsive under her and she kissed his right cheek.  
"Nicholas..."

  
She trailed the tip of her tongue down his face, licking his beard before giving him a dominant kiss, her lips envelopping his, her tongue parting them. She ploundered his mouth and fisted the front of his shirt. Her hips rolled over his, her center rubbed against his cock.  
"Oh my, you're a big boy," she commented in a very pleased voice.  
"Miss French, I don't think this is appr-"

  
His protests died under her mouth. His knuckles turned white. Lacey had the look of someone famished in front of a buffet.  
  
His gaze went glassy. Last time a woman had looked at him like that was before Gloria's cancer reappeared, more than two years ago. His wife's death had almost destroyed him. He couldn't stand that look in Lacey's blue eyes, it was too painful. Gloria had blue eyes too. His breathing deepened, pinned where he was by her gaze.  
"Call me Lacey..." she ordered him, unbuttoning his waistcoat and shirt. Her thumbs rubbed his nipples to attention.  
Rush hissed in pleasure and pain. She stroked his sides and belly, biting her bottom lip.

"You're beautiful, Nicholas."  
  
He felt his insides twist at the compliment, not wanting to be flattered, but he couldn't help it.

"Miss French, I-" he started with a frown, and she got up suddenly, cutting him off.

She grabbed his longish hair and pulled his face between her breasts. He froze, arms stopped in the midst of a defensive motion. Lacey massaged his scalp for a few moments but he didn't relax. The softness around his face was warm and mellow like a pillow. It made him want to stay there forever and hide from the world and his responsibilities. Those fucking Ancient calculations would be the death of him.  
"Is this your wife ?" Lacey asked above him.

  
He raised his face to look at the picture on his desk. She had twisted her head to observe his desk. Rush hoped she hadn't seen the little circles indicating fallen tears on the photo and on the papers.  
"Yes," he answered. "She was."

  
He closed his eyes, feeling her nimble little fingers scratching his hair. It was pleasant. It had been so long since he had been touched in a pleasurable way. However, it came from a student, and thus forbidden. He knew he could be fired, if someone came in. Rush wasn't sure it would be a bad thing, he would be free to work on the Ancient calculations. But he couldn't bear the hostility born of such a scandalous situation. Rush snapped out of his thoughts when he felt hands on his fly. Lacey had knelt and grinned up at him.  
  
Rush grinded his teeth and forced himself to talk. His tongue felt like a stone in his mouth and speaking was a real struggle. His cock pressing against the front of his jeans, and it hurt.  
"Miss French, stop this and get up. You wanted to discuss you failing my class."  
"I'm done discussing, Professor Rush. You are interested."

She touched his groin, feeling his hard length under her palm. Lacey grinned and slid his fly open. She spied dark grey boxers briefs through the slit in his jeans, and she smirked. She pressed her lower face to the opening and blew her warm breath inside. She hummed appreciatingly and opened his belt and the button of his jeans. Licking her lips, she opened his trousers and removed his underwears as best as he could considering his position.  
  
Rush was frozen. His exhausted mind had stopped thinking the moment her fingers had touched him. His body craved touching, any touch, and he couldn't move away, even if the dean came in to yell at him. Her breath, scalding like fire, had burnt his loins and the contrast with the cold air made him shiver.  
  
When her mouth closed around his cock, he felt his consciousness retreated and he refrained a moan. She let go of him, leaving him standing glistening, wet and cold in the air. After a while, he looked down at her, and she smiled.  
"I thought I had lost you, Professor," she said. "You taste good."  
"Err... " He wasn't sure what to do, was he meant to thank her for the compliment ? For the blowjob ? He still wasn't sure he wanted it, he sure didn't want to be involved in her little schemes and he knew he would be soon if he didn't stop her. But her mouth and hands felt so good on him, and it had been so long... And Lacey took him in her hand, and he couldn't think anymore.  
  
She slid the foreskin back, exposing a red purplish tip. She grinned up at him and pumped several times, playing with the little flap of skin.  
Rush's mind was definitely off. His head fell backward against the top of the armchair with a groan. He stared at the ceiling and bit his bottom lip before looking down. Her head was bobbing, his cock sheathed into her warm mouth. The wetness and the warmth around his aroused flesh made him crazy. His gasps and pants were the only noise in the room and his hands squeezed the armchair so tight it hurt him.  
  
She wrapped her hand close around his length starting at the base, her breath falling on his groin and balls. She pumped him hard and slow, her lips closed around the tip of him, and she explored it with her tongue, circling it, giving it playful little licks and tracing numbers over it. An image of Gloria flashed through Rush's fevered mind and his blood felt too warm in his veins, scorching its way through his body.  
His hips started to thrust erratically. He was close, and it felt wonderful. Rush didn't have a lot of brain left, he wasn't in control anymore. He could feel the pleasure building, his balls tightening, a whip coiling in his guts and his thoughts were slowlying, becoming hazier and hazier, and all he could feel was this yearning for more, more, more, moremoremore...  
  
And he fell from the edge. His face contorded in a grimace akin to pain, and he thrusted hard, his body releasing little cords of sperm into her mouth. Lacey pumped him through it, milking him until he had nothing to spurt anymore. Rush slumped into his armchair, panting hard.  
Lacey got up, leaning against his thighs. She spat his juices into the trashbin.  
"Miss French," he started.  
"Stop it," She ordered, getting up. "I trust that if you want a repeat performance, my grades will go up."

  
Rush opened his eyes, unaware he had closed them. He looked up at Lacey and saw mockery in them.  
"Professor Rush, you should clean your trashbin. If the cleaning lady finds your jizz in it, she'll probably make a report. Let's have another appointement next week, same day, same hour."  
She left without waiting for his answer.  
  
He stayed there, confused, upset, his cock out and limp between his spread legs. He tucked himself absentmindedly, his hand on his sated cock sending a shiver down his spine. He felt empty. His problems were still there. The Ancient calculations were still an enigma, he was still in need of sleep, of a cigarette, and a pot full of coffee. But she hadn't lied, for a split second, he had forgotten his failures, his loneliness, and everything he lacked. Then his eyes fell on the framed shot of Gloria, on his desk, and he burst into tears.  
  



End file.
